


Back to the Light

by Giraffic_Park



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crying, Dammit Jim, Forced to rape victim to spare them from a worse fate, Fuck Or Die, Initially Reluctant Rapist, M/M, Something Made Them Do It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-16 07:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14807207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giraffic_Park/pseuds/Giraffic_Park
Summary: Kirk is struck with a mysterious illness and claims there's only one cure. McCoy thinks the whole thing is bullshit... until he doesn't.





	Back to the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wrabbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrabbit/gifts).



"Oh you have _got_ to be fucking kidding me!" This was outrageous. Jim had surely lost his damned mind this time. Was he really supposed to believe this?

Jim had stormed into the clearing, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, dirt and debris scattering across McCoy's feet as he came to a stop. The next words out of his mouth were literally the most ridiculous thing McCoy had ever heard: "I need you to fuck me or I'm going to die."

McCoy had studied all manner of xenobiology at the Academy. He'd even poured over things he'd found once they'd gotten into their space travels. Not once had 'put your dick in it' been noted as a cure for anything. Not once. Not even on that one planet with the hot and cold running orgies.

"Look, Bones, I'm not. Honest, I'm not. If you don't believe me, come back with me to talk to the creepy elder. It's what he said." Jim was starting to look a little pale. Then again, he'd just run six kilometers - apparently at a dead sprint.

"Jim, I really don't have time for your games. I'm busy." McCoy turned back to the botanicals he was examining and making notes of. He was planning to take samples back to the ship for further study to determine if they had medicinal properties.

He could hear Jim catching his breath behind him. That was fine. He needed to calm down.

"Bones, will you just come with me? Even if he is lying, maybe you can convince him to give you the actual antidote."

"To what?" he snapped. Clearly Jim was fucking with him, right? Trying to distract him from his work. They had things they needed to do here. Jim was supposed to be negotiating treaties while McCoy was gathering plant samples.

"Whatever it is they did to me while I was in that tent," Jim answered, a couple of his words beginning to slur now.

McCoy frowned and turned around in time to see Jim slump to the ground, beads of sweat on his forehead and neck. _Shit._ He abandoned the plant samples and knelt beside Jim.

Scanning him with the tricorder didn't net him any worthwhile results. In fact, everything was scanning as normal. That shouldn't be happening if he's sweating this much.

"Jim?" he said, peeling one of the man's eyes open to get a look.

He didn't know what was going on, only that Jim didn't look good at all. He tucked his tricorder away and draped Jim's arm across his shoulders. "Come on, let's get you up and moving," he said, pushing hard with his legs to get the two of them upright. "All right, Jim, you're going to have to help me out, because there's no way I can carry your ass."

Jim managed to put one foot in front of the other for several steps. Then he draped himself against McCoy's side and reached to push his finger into McCoy's mouth. "You're really hot, you know that?" he slurred.

"Focus, Jim. We've got a long walk ahead of us."

Very long. Six kilometers was going to take them forever at the pace they were keeping. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could feel Jim slipping deeper into delirium as they went. He'd be bright and coherent one minute - though usually obnoxious as well - then he'd slump and McCoy would be forced to half-drag him along the path.

This was never going to work. Why the hell hadn't he brought Spock along for this?

He found a large rock positioned near a sturdy tree and lowered Jim to sit on the rock. Jim flopped more than he sat, arms waving at his sides. He perked up a little and peered straight into McCoy's face. "You know, if you put me the other way, you have really good access." Then he devolved into a fit of hysterical giggles.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "I'm taking shore leave once we get the hell out of here," he muttered. "Stay put," he told Jim. He strongly considered putting a forcefield around the man, but passed on the idea as less than productive. "Jim, I'm serious, I need you to wait here for me to get back."

Jim leaned forward, his hand reaching to brush between McCoy's legs. "Then will you do it? If I sit here like a good boy, will you do it so I don't die?"

The pleading in Jim's eyes was almost sincere. In fact, if not for the man's wandering hands, McCoy might have believed him.

He sighed. "Sure. Just, wait here. Be good. We'll talk when I get back."

"Okay," Jim said, leaning back against the tree and pouting.

McCoy didn't have time to keep playing games. He'd have to trust that Jim wouldn't wander off while he was gone. He still had better than three kilometers of the walk to make before he could talk to the 'creepy elder', then he had to trek those three back to get Jim. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

It was starting to get dark as he made his way back through the small wood toward where he'd left Jim. His talk with the 'creepy elder' had not gone nearly as well as he'd planned. He hadn't learned anything useful. He'd barely been allowed to speak, so he couldn't ask the questions he needed to ask to find out what was going on with Jim. In fact, he'd mostly gotten the same answer each time he managed to eke out a question at all.

He reached the rock and tree arrangement where he'd left Jim, but he was nowhere to be seen. In the dark, it was going to be nearly impossible to find him if he'd wandered off and passed out somewhere. He called the man's name just to see if he'd get an answer. Nothing.

"Dammit, Jim, I am not a wilderness scout," he grumbled to himself and followed the path toward the clearing they'd been in earlier.

Of course Jim wouldn't be there. That would be too easy. He only had his medical tricorder, but it would have to do. He flipped it open and began to scan the nearby area, hoping to get a read on Jim's bio-signs.

He was about to begin his steady circle sweep starting anti-clockwise to his left when he heard a thump and a giggle. Eyes rolled toward the heavens, he sighed and thought, 'God, I hope that's Jim.' He started in the direction of the noise.

There was another small clearing. That's where he found Jim. Naked. Swinging his pants over his head like a lasso. When he spotted McCoy, he let go of his pants and they flew two or three meters and got stuck to the side of a tree. "Hey, Bones! I got really hot, so I was looking for some water. You were gone a long time and I'm really hot." He stumbled a couple steps, then stopped and blinked at McCoy. "Hey - have you seen my friend, Bones? He was here just a minute ago."

"Dammit, Jim," he grumbled and scanned him with the tricorder. Whatever 'whammy' the elder had cast on him was getting worse. More than that, McCoy still had no idea how to actually fix it. All the elder had told him was that he'd given the 'key' to Jim. And Jim was so far gone, nothing he said made much sense.

He had to do something. So, he located a hypospray, selected the option he thought had the best chance of doing any good, and reached for Jim's arm.

"Oooh - are you going to play with me now?" Jim cooed.

"Hold still," McCoy snarled and used the hypo on Jim's upper arm.

Jim glanced at his arm, then back to McCoy. "That tickles." But he didn't laugh. Instead, his legs seemed to turn to jelly and he all but collapsed to the ground.

A moment later, he was back on his feet and clapped McCoy on the shoulder. "Hey, Bones. What took you so long?"

No way it was that easy. McCoy stared at Jim for a solid minute waiting for something to happen.

"I feel really weird. And naked." Though he didn't seem at all bothered by the naked part. Then he clapped his hands together and pointed at McCoy. "I remember what I'm supposed to tell you! Really weird, but that elder guy said there was only one way to fix this thing he did to me... boy was he pissed that I'd crashed his party. I mean, I hadn't done it on purpose. I fell out of the tree and just happened to land in the middle of his ceremonial ring thing. I totally hadn't meant to. Hey, do you have any lube? Because we're gonna need it. Do you know why my vision's getting all blurry now?"

McCoy caught Jim as he was sinking to the ground again. He settled him with his back against a tree. "Jim, I'm going to need you to focus and tell me what it is that I'm supposed to do here. The elder guy wouldn't tell me anything except that you knew. So, help me out."

Jim blinked and rolled his head toward McCoy. "Your eyes are really blue..."

McCoy smirked. "My eyes are brown, Jim. Now shut up." He readied another hypo. He needed Jim alert enough to talk to him for a couple minutes. "Jim, focus. Tell me what we have to do."

Jim blinked again and shook his head as though clearing cobwebs. "I already told you. And you didn't like the answer. But that's the only one." He turned and grabbed a handful of McCoy's shirt. "You gotta do it, Bones. You gotta or I'm gonna die."

McCoy pulled Jim's fingers from his shirt. "Don't be so dramatic." He scanned him again with the tricorder. It didn't look great, but he didn't seem to be dying, despite his declaration to the contrary.

"'M not being dra- dra- dra _matic_ ," he stuttered.

"I am not fucking you, Jim. There has to be another way."

Jim rocked his head back and forth. "There's not. Elder guy said it's the only way." Jim's words were slurring again.

McCoy narrowed his eyes. "What exactly did he tell you?"

It took Jim a moment to focus his thoughts and his eyes. "He said - um - he said that I would need to get fucked until I orgasmed to get rid of this." Jim's head rolled to the right and he found a stick suddenly very interesting. He picked it up and started poking it at the ground, tamping it down in the same spot each time.

"He did not say that, Jim. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Jim's eyes were wild and his face looked angry when he turned his head back to the left. "That is what he told me. Not - maybe not those words, but it's what he said. I even asked him my way to make sure I knew what he meant." His shoulders slumped and all the air expelled from his chest. "Are you gonna help me, Bones?" he asked. Then he blinked up at him again and said, "I don't want to die," in the smallest voice McCoy'd ever heard from the man.

_Shit._

He didn't want to do this. He couldn't do this. Nothing about this was right. There was no consent. Only desperation. This was not a good situation at all. This was choosing between two terrible options and he didn't like the outcome for either.

"I don't know if I can do that, Jim," he answered honestly and moved to sit on the ground next to his captain. His job, as a physician, was to do no harm. It was repeated enough to be cliché, but it was true. Doctors had taken that oath for years.

But, was letting Jim suffer and die just as bad? He could make him somewhat comfortable, but was that enough? Was that the right thing to do?

He looked at Jim sitting next to him and had to lean closer to see for sure. Was he crying? He'd never seen Jim cry before. Not even on that terrible birthday when he was missing his dad so much he was almost drowning in three or four different bottles.

Jim's voice was soft and quiet, barely audible; McCoy had to lean in close to make out the words: "It's okay, Bones. I know this is shitty. And I wouldn't be asking if there was any other way. I tried. I did. I asked him if there was something else. He told me 'no'. This was it. This was the only way. I don't want you to do it. But we have to. We don't have a choice." He sniffed and tried to look like he was okay with this and that he would be okay if McCoy told him he couldn't do it. He was trying to be strong and not scared.

_Shit._

McCoy looked through his med-pack to see if he had anything that would be serviceable for their needs. 'Every contingency,' he thought to himself. He reached to scrub tears off Jim's face. "Come on, Jim. Let's find someplace less uncomfortable to do this."

Jim's eyes didn't seem to want to focus on anything in particular. He lifted a hand, but it flopped right back down to the ground. He wasn't going to be much help like this.

McCoy glanced around the clearing and found the trunk of a felled tree. He looped Jim's arm around his shoulders and half-dragged the man to the tree trunk. He reached over and snatched Jim's wildly abandoned shirt from the ground nearby and spread it across the tree. "This won't be much help, but it's something," he explained and folded Jim's body over the tree trunk.

Jim had reached a point where he was all but non-responsive. McCoy knew he was still breathing, but he couldn't get the man to give him any sort of verbal reactions.

"It's okay, Jim. We'll fix it." And if this bullshit didn't actually work, he was going to be really pissed off.

He took his time preparing Jim. Just because he was being forced to do this didn't mean he had to be a jerk about it. He didn't know how much experience with anal sex Jim had (he could offer up his own somewhat biased speculations, but he didn't actually know), and his own level of experience was more limited than he might let on, but he knew the basics. He'd done this once or twice before. Plus, he was a doctor; he knew the human body for sure.

He heard Jim moan lightly and figured he wasn't hurting the man. Convinced he had sufficiently prepared Jim, he unfastened his pants and drew out his cock. He stroked himself, but nothing happened. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to settle his nerves. Even if he didn't want to do this, he had to. For Jim. He spent several long seconds mentally psyching himself up.

Finally, he was hard enough he could accomplish something and moved to position himself to push in when Jim reached back and said, "Wait."

"What is it, Jim? Do you want me to stop?"

"I don't want to do this at all," he said in a voice that seemed to surprise him, as though he hadn't expected his voice to be that strong. "But - oh god, Bones... please..." He'd shifted again, body shaking with that strange fever that wasn't a fever and sweat pouring down his back.

McCoy laid a hand on Jim's back. "It's okay, Jim. We'll do this and it'll be done and you'll be fine." He hoped that was true. He wanted this to be over.

He closed his eyes and guided his cock by feel. Gently, he pressed into Jim's body. Slowly pushing through the brief moment of resistance, almost pulling out when he heard the pitiful whimper escape Jim's throat. He rubbed a hand on Jim's back again. It was as much for him as it was for Jim. This was an impossible task. He was afraid he was hurting him - and not just physically. He didn't even want to think about what this would do to his own psyche.

But, he pushed through. He kept telling himself it was medically necessary to save Jim's life. He had to do this.

At some point in all of his thinking, his body took over and seemed to behave on instinct. His hips rocked forward and back, pushing in and drawing out his cock. Jim whimpered again, though it sounded less pained this time. Then Jim pushed back against him. Like he needed more. It kicked his libido into high gear, though he tried to stop it. He fucked Jim harder and faster. He could feel the sweat starting to drip down his back. He felt his fingers gripping tighter at Jim's hips. He could hear his breathing speed up and shallow. Fuck, he wanted to stop, but he wanted to keep going.

He knew he was close to orgasm, but he couldn't say the same for Jim. Was he close? Did he need more? Would he just have to keep fucking him? He wasn't sure he would have much left once he came. _Jesus, Jim._ The bastard pushed his hips back against him again.

Jim's fingers were curled against the bark of the fallen tree. Peeling pieces off as he tried to angle his body to get what he needed. All the movement and shifting was making McCoy's job so much harder.

"Use your hand, Jim," he grunted and dropped his chin to his chest.

Jim shook his head. "Can't. Won't work."

The rules of this 'cure' were complicated and evolving as this went along. "I swear to God, Jim, if you are fucking with me about this, I will lock you in a cell with Spock and give him permission to nerve pinch you every time you talk - oh _fuck!_ "

"N- not lying."

McCoy felt Jim's legs go stiff. But it was short-lived. He grunted in frustration and kept going. His legs were starting to burn and his knees were starting to complain about all of the movement.

"For Christ's sake, Jim, will you fucking _come_ already?" he growled. And he couldn't make himself wait any longer, he felt his orgasm hit and it was all he could do to stay on his feet.

Jim leaned heavily against the tree, whimpering piteously. "It's not enough," he wailed and McCoy was certain he was crying again.

_Shit._

"Come here," he said as he withdrew and moved away from the tree.

"But - Bones -" Jim sniffed again.

"We're not done. Just trust me, okay?" He laid himself down on the hard ground (a bedroll would be great right now, really) and waved for Jim to settle into place on his cock. "You're going to have to do the work for a while. My knees can't take that standing up shit anymore."

Jim seemed to understand the idea and knelt over McCoy's hips. Then he lowered himself onto his cock and started moving up and down. Slowly. So goddamned slowly McCoy thought he was going to lose his mind.

McCoy tipped his head back and started reciting the bones of the Andorian body to start. It was a good distraction away from how damned sensitive his cock was. He reached a hand to grasp something and ended up with his fingers curled around the edge of Jim's thigh, adding a set of bruises there to the ones from his hip. Jim didn't seem to notice as he was so caught up in fucking himself silly.

Now Jim was moving so fast, McCoy was certain he'd have abrasions on his cock. Between that and the extreme sensitivity, he wasn't sure he'd be able to last until Jim finally orgasmed. He was seconds away from telling Jim he had to stop when he saw Jim's come splash against his chest. He didn't even care that it got on his uniform. He would clean it later.

McCoy put his hands up to catch Jim as he fell forward in an ungainly collapse, spent and panting against his chest. One hand rested on Jim's head, brushing his hair. He waited for the man to come back to himself, hopefully better off than he'd been before they started.

"Jim?" he asked and waited for him to respond. He repeated the man's name a few more times before he got a coherent response.

"Can I just sleep for a while now?"

"Hell no. Get off me." But he didn't push him away or make him get up. He didn't think a nap was a good idea, but even if he wanted to get up, he couldn't. His own legs were rubbery and weak from the exertion.

It took several minutes before he felt Jim's breathing even out to a more normal pattern. Then Jim rolled off McCoy's chest and lay flat on the ground beside him.

"Bones?"

"Yeah, Jim?"

"That was weird, right?"

"Yeah, that was weird."

"We tell no one."

"Not a soul."

* * *

"Doctor, did you acquire the samples that you nee-" Spock began but McCoy interrupted him.

"Whatever that planet is, put it on the 'Never Go There in a Million Years' list. We are _never_ going down there again."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "I assume everything will be in your report?"

McCoy frowned. "No power in this galaxy could get me to tell you what happened down there." Spock began to protest. "No. Power."

Jim had already slipped past and out of the transporter bay.

"Doctor-"

"No. Power. Spock. No. My report will reflect 'Don't fucking go there'. And that is all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go check on my patient." He stalked out of the transporter bay. _And get myself the largest glass of whiskey._

* * *

**Epilogue**

"Bones, I don't want to talk about it," Jim said without looking up from his drink.

"I don't either, but I think we need to. I hate what I had to do. But I need to know if we're okay."

Jim shrugged. "I hated it too. And yeah, we're okay," he glanced up, then back to his drink. "But I think I'm going to be a little fucked up for a while."

McCoy poured himself a glass. "I think we both are."

Jim was quiet for a long moment before he asked, "Any idea what that actually was?"

McCoy shook his head. "None at all. And I've looked through every file I can find on encounters in this sector with that race or that planet. Nothing." He'd spent the last few weeks pouring over reports and texts - it had netted him the smallest amount of information that could qualify as 'information'.

"Then maybe we should write it up. Get the information out there so it doesn't hurt anyone else," Jim offered solemnly.

"That's a lot of responsibility. And scrutiny. Are you sure?"

"No. I'm not. But I think it's the right thing to do." He was quiet again and sipped his drink. "Don't listen to me. I've been drowning my pain in here for an hour."

McCoy quirked his mouth to one side. "Write it up. Leave our names out of it if it helps. We can send it over secure subspace back to Starfleet. Maybe someone there knows something."

"Yeah. Maybe." He drained his glass and pondered refilling it. Instead, he looked up at McCoy. "Thanks for being here, Bones. I don't know if I could've gotten through this without you."

"What're friends for?" he said back and raised his glass to his friend. They really were friends. Closer than they'd ever expected to be. Under circumstances that would test anyone beyond their limits. Somehow they'd persevered and they seemed to be okay. Not all the way back to their version of normal, but close. Most days they could fake it okay. Some days it was even starting to feel like it wasn't fake.


End file.
